


Keep Me Warm

by stuckontheboyband



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Awkward Boners, Christmas, Clueless Steve Rogers, Dildos, Fluff, M/M, Masturbation, Shrunkyclunks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:33:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28450002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stuckontheboyband/pseuds/stuckontheboyband
Summary: Since reuniting, Steve and Bucky have been inseparable. Everyone else has noticed, as Christmas rapidly approaches, that they seem to be closer than two friends would normally be... but Steve is completely oblivious. (A bit of Christmas fluff that grew a plot)
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 7
Kudos: 181





	Keep Me Warm

**Author's Note:**

> Uhhh yeah... this was meant to be out in time for Christmas but... Happy New Year? This is canon-divergent and I assumed the events are a bit of a "what if" after Civil War.
> 
> Otherwise known as "this was meant to be a pwp before I got back to my main work Spin but it ran away on me and grew a plot and FEELINGS."  
> Also known as "Steve, just work it out already"

Snowflakes fell gently, cascading to the lightly snowy ground outside the brownstone apartment in Sunset Park, Brooklyn, as the sun rose on chilly morning in mid-December. It was like something from a fairy tale; delicate, beautiful… but the two people inside hardly noticed it.

It’d been another bad night for Bucky. They were getting fewer and further between, but Steve knew that much as things could never go back to perfect for himself, there was even less chance after all Bucky had endured. He shuddered, not against the cold, but the thought of all that had led Bucky back to him. Steve stood by the coffee maker, warming his hands around the mug, staring off into space. He’d left Bucky curled up in his bed, finally succumb to an exhausted slumber. On these days, Steve didn’t like to move too far away; he never knew when Bucky might need him. At the first sign of stirring, Steve would start on breakfast, but until then, he was content just to wait it out. He pulled out his sketch pad he kept in the kitchen drawer for such mornings, and began to idly drag his pencil across a fresh page.

When he’d thought Bucky was dead, that had been the hardest. Steve had never felt so helpless, so useless, like anything he could do was never going to be enough. Guilt had gnawed away at him, tearing him apart from the inside. Once anger had eaten away at him, the quest for revenge fizzling out the flame that kept him alive, busy, focussed on the task at hand with a single track mind and unbelievable focus… Peggy might have been the only person to ever know why he’d really crashed that plane… and she’d taken that secret with her to her grave. Steve’s eyes misted as he remembered the fierce and formidable woman who had been his closest friend. Well, except…

Steve started as the door to the bedroom opposite bumped against the wall and Bucky came strolling out. Schooling his features into something resembling calm, Steve shifted around the kitchen bench, preparing another coffee and placing it gently into Bucky’s hands. Carefully, he assessed the man before him. Bucky’s features were pinched, strained. He was paler than usual, but his stance was neutral. Good. He wasn’t seeing any threat here today. Steve noted Bucky had wandered out wearing nothing more than his red boxer briefs… he wondered how long it’d take him to realise he was cold. The heating in the modern apartment might be good… but it wasn’t _that_ good.

Bucky smiled at Steve gently as he placed the mug in his hands, his steely blue eyes lighting up. “Thanks Stevie… ‘preciate it. Hope I… I wasn’t t-too bad last night?”

Those blue eyes were pleading with him and God help him, it was going to kill Steve one day. The fact that Bucky still thought himself capable of hurting Steve… it hadn’t happened once since Steve had taken him in, but the doubt in those familiar eyes was painful to see, every time Bucky asked. Steve cleared his throat nervously. Bucky used to be a lot more talkative, a lot more confident… not the kind of guy that would stutter or think twice about coming out and asking anything. But this Bucky? He needed all the kindness and reassurance he could get.

“ ’S fine, Buck. You were fine. Just… nightmares.”

Bucky nodded gruffly, shifting beside Steve and nudging him gently aside. Funnily enough, personal space had never been an issue for the two of them, falling back into that same closeness with relative ease when Steve had offered Bucky the second bedroom in his apartment. Just like old times. When Bucky recovered from an episode like this, he’d snap right back into his usual self, despite the strain on his face. There’d be the odd time or two he’d still be struggling the morning after though, and Steve was always ready. Bucky busied himself grabbing things from the fridge, and Steve opened his mouth to protest that he was going to make the breakfast, only to be met by such a determined look that he closed his mouth again and sat back at the counter, idly sketching as he carefully watched Bucky.

For the first couple of months, they’d stayed at the Avengers compound. Although Steve hated it there – and he knew Bucky did too – Tony’s arguments for monitoring them both until Bucky settled in a bit, he knew, weren’t completely unfounded. Bucky might have spent a while in Wakanda, healing, but there was so much they weren’t quite sure about yet. In those days, Bucky would hardly speak, just the odd sliver of dark, sarcastic humour that Steve knew was masking the hurt, the guilt and the confusion of the man he’d known his whole life. Then the quiet would be broken in the middle of the night, when Steve would be awoken by his screams. A sound that would haunt him to his dying day – the sounds of a man who had been broken, time and again, tortured, mistreated, abused, then tortured again. Steve had seen his fair share of horrors, but his heart broke and his blood boiled every time Bucky cried out, as though the guilty feeling inside him could be pushed away.

As Bucky slowly came back more into himself over those first weeks, he would often mutter in those days at the compound about how the lights were too bright; everything in the future seemed so impersonal. Steve nodded; he agreed. Tony’s tastes (well, Pepper’s if he was being honest) were not his own either. Steve hoped Bucky would get better soon enough to prove to everyone he could go back home with Steve where there were soft yellow lights from lamps, and dark crevices and creaky floorboards and dust catching the afternoon sun and piles of half-read books and windows you could actually open… where JARVIS wouldn’t suddenly address you in the middle of coffee and make you spill it all down your front… (to be fair, that had only happened twice, and both times, Bucky had been highly amused as Steve stomped off to change his top).

The Bucky standing before him had come so far since then. Steve looked fondly as Bucky scurried around their small kitchen, grabbing a large array of things and starting on three different breakfast dishes at once. Feeding two super soldiers was no mean feat; Steve was often relieved that money was no longer a barrier with how much the pair of them ate. Seeing Bucky before him now, so calm, so confident, so _capable_ , filled Steve with immense pride. He felt his heart soar as he watched Bucky bustling around, a small smile playing on his lips.

Steve discovered very early on there was only one thing that could calm Bucky down after an episode; human contact. The first time he’d screamed out in the night back in the tower, Steve had run into the room stark naked, carrying his shield. It took him approximately five seconds to establish there was no external threat, and he didn’t think twice before rushing to his friend’s side, wrapping his arms around him from behind and helping him to regulate his breathing. From the first time, Bucky had been so responsive to this that Steve knew he’d always be there to help him through whatever he needed. He had to be.

Eventually they’d both fallen asleep that first night, and Steve had the very awkward moment in the morning of waking up naked in his best friend’s bed. He couldn’t stop his face flushing a dark shade of scarlet, even though he reminded himself that when they’d shared an apartment in the 40s, they’d seen each other naked lots of times. On the battlefield, it had been inevitable. This felt… different somehow. Steve wasn’t going to unpack that in that moment, nervously clutching a sheet around his middle and shuffling off to his own room, vowing to at least wear underwear to bed in future. He couldn’t even meet Bucky’s eye as he knew his embarrassment was foolish; irrelevant.

Steve continued to watch Bucky making breakfast proudly, until Bucky looked up and raised his eyebrow at him.

“Everything okay, Steve?” Bucky winked at him.

Steve put his head to one side, taking far too long for his brain to catch on that Bucky had caught him watching him. He blinked slowly.

“Uhh… think I’m going to get a shower, Buck. Won’t be long.”

The look on Bucky’s face was almost… disappointed?

“Unless… you’d rather I stayed?” Steve tries to make his question as casual as possible. He fails, miserably.

“Nah, can’t have you stinkin’ up the place,” Bucky chuckled, and winked again. “Go on – get yourself cleaned up.” Steve smiled at him softly. The sound of Bucky’s laugh was one he never thought he’d have the pleasure of enjoying again. He patted Bucky on the shoulder, and headed for the ensuite off his bedroom.

Under the spray of the hot shower, Steve closed his eyes, begging his mind to refocus. Being weird around Bucky wasn’t going to help his recovery. They’d been in the apartment together for around eight months now. During the earlier days, when Bucky would have bad days as well as bad nights, nearly every night they’d find themselves going straight to bed together, otherwise Bucky wouldn’t be able to sleep. Bucky had only needed to ask once; Steve intuitively knew when it was what Bucky needed and he’d often simply incline his head, which would be met with a short nod. Steve hadn’t questioned it at any point. It was what Bucky needed, so it was what happened. Slowly, his unassuming and unwavering presence had helped Bucky come back more into himself, and there were times that Steve even _missed_ the constant closeness of those earlier days.

He certainly didn’t miss the frequency with which they would wake up in those early days, limbs entangled, one or the both of them sporting morning wood, awkwardly poking into each other as they slowly came back into consciousness. Well, awkwardly on Steve’s part, anyway. Bucky would just grab the offending appendage, shoving it gently out of his way, rolling over and going back to sleep. When it came to Bucky himself, he’d usually just smirk, telling Steve he wasn’t leaving enough room in the bed for Bucky’s sizeable package, usually accompanied by thrusting said package at Steve’s back, his thigh, his elbow… once even the side of his face, much to Steve’s protest. It would soon devolve into roughhousing, sometimes even a pillow fight. In the early days, Steve’d had feather pillows on his bed. It only took one time where Bucky burst a pillow open - raining feathers on them both - for Steve to replace his pillows for some with polyester filling. Even now, sometimes, he’d catch a stray feather floating around in there. Steve had been less awkward about his boners after that but… never quite so proud of them as Bucky seemed to be? He shook his head fondly.

Speaking of which, with the number of nights spent in the same bed as his best friend, Steve had taken to, well, taking care of business in his morning shower. He let out a shuddering breath as he took himself in hand, slowly stroking up and down his length, already completely hard. Normally he’d try and take his shower when Bucky was out of the house; in the knowledge that his own hearing was enhanced, he assumed Bucky was much the same. For whatever reason, he desperately didn’t want Bucky overhearing him. Still, Bucky was busy with breakfast, and Steve was well practised with being as quiet and efficient as possible. Steve let his mind wander as his hand kept busy, steaming water streaming down his back.

Bucky, however, showed no such discretion. He’d take himself off to the main bathroom whenever he had the inclination, the soft pants, grunts and the slick sound of him stroking himself obvious to Steve’s sensitive hearing. Clearly he kept the bathroom well stocked… it certainly wasn’t Steve’s place to pry there. Credit where credit was due, though, the bathroom was always spotless when Bucky came out again, nonplussed, seeming not to notice the bright shade of red Steve had turned in the midst of whatever he was doing at the time. If Bucky felt so inclined at night, it was worse, Steve discovered during those initial weeks back at home in his apartment. The first few times Steve heard the soft moans coming from Bucky’s room, he’d burst straight in, thinking Bucky was having a nightmare. Bucky, amused, would simply arch an eyebrow at Steve, smirk, then resume his activity as though Steve wasn’t even in the room; Steve himself muttering an apology as he left, cheeks flaming. Steve had certainly taken note of exactly what sounds differentiated the two after that, he thought to himself, as he increased the speed of his own strokes. Steve shoved his fist in his mouth as he released over the shower wall, preventing the shout beginning in his throat, and washing the evidence down the drain.

Steve emerged from his bedroom fully clothed, hair still damp, to the sight of Bucky, now donning a bright red apron to match his underwear, and bright green hand knitted socks. Steve chuckled to himself. At least if Bucky had added some clothing, he wasn’t going to freeze his ass off while making their breakfast, however strange his attire might look. Bucky looked up at the sound of Steve’s laughter, huge grin plastered on his face. He sauntered over, spatula still in hand, clapping Steve on the back.

“Feel better?” Bucky asked, waggling his eyebrows, gaze just _that_ side of penetrating to imply he was asking more. What, Steve didn’t know. There was _no way_ he’d heard what was going on in the bathroom, was there?

“Uhh… yeah… better...” Steve trailed off awkwardly. Bucky sidled up beside him, pressing his nose into the side of Steve’s neck and inhaling deeply, his lips tickling him gently as he spoke.

“Well, y’don’t stink so much anymore. I think the rest of the smell is just you, not much we can do about it.”

Steve looked at Bucky, mock-offended, hands over his heart. “I’ll have you know that’s the aftershave you got me for my birthday!”

Bucky pretended to look thoughtful for a moment. “Nah, that’s not it… it’s definitely Stevie-stink.” Bucky put on a puzzled expression, sniffing around Steve from various angles, nodding as he went. “Sorry pal, not much we can do about it.”

Steve harrumphed loudly, grabbing Bucky around the waist and lifting him over his shoulder, carrying him over to the sofa where he was less than gently deposited before Steve jumped on top of him. “I’ll give you stink,” Steve threatened, pinning Bucky to the couch with both his legs and one of his arms. He started nuzzling into Bucky’s face, his arms, his chest... to the sound of loud protests from Bucky. “Ahh fuck, now I’ve got a mouthful of your hair, Captain _Stinkmerica_!” “I’ll give you Stinkmerica, _Mucky_ Barnes…” The pair of them paused, breathing heavily, Steve suddenly aware of Bucky’s hard length pushing into his thigh, their faces so close that Bucky was out of focus.

They were jarred out of whatever moment they were having by the sound of the lock at the front door jiggling.

“Hope you boys have your pants on,” Nat’s familiar voice rang out.

Steve froze for a split second, cheeks flushed, before rolling off the sofa. Bucky thrust the spatula that was still in his hand at Steve, inclining his head towards the unfinished pancakes in the kitchen. Steve scrambled to his feet and into the kitchen, Bucky closing his bedroom door just as Nat opened the front one. Pointless, really, locking a building when Black Widow was around. She and Sam stepped into the apartment, Nat looking purposeful, Sam looking sheepish.

“Y’know, one day you’ll walk in and they _won’t_ be wearing pants.” Sam put his hands on his hips. “You coulda at least knocked.”

Nat smiled sweetly over at Steve in the kitchen, scrutinising him in a way that made everything that had just transpired seem obviously written on his face. Steve hadn’t even begun to process… whatever it was. Plus, it seemed to have taken Nat longer than usual to pick the door lock. Tactically, she should’ve been in the room while he and Bucky were still on the couch. Surely she wasn’t losing her touch?

Nat shrugged. “Nah, I gave them plenty of warning. Besides, if the pants were off the pancakes would’ve been burnt.” Sam just shook his head, walking over to clap Steve on the back.

“How are ya, man?” Steve smiled, muttering things were good but that Bucky had had a bad night, so they’d both forgotten Sam and Nat were coming over that morning.

“ ’S’all good man, he ok?” Steve just nodded. Bucky was fine. “You stay with him last night?” This question came with a slightly more concerned tone. Steve nodded again, aware Nat now had a huge grin on her face. Steve flushed under her gaze. He knew Sam had expressed concern about how Bucky relied on Steve, how Bucky needed to open up more to others… Steve had defended their choice though. Bucky was seeing several shrinks, he’d become really close to Clint, Sam and Nat, and they didn’t do everything together. If Steve could help Bucky through this, he would. He owed his friend that much.

“You better not have fucked up the last bit of my magnificent breakfast.” Bucky breezed out of his room, all the world looking completely unsurprised by Nat and Sam’s arrival, looking far more composed than Steve had done a minute earlier, his black skinny jeans revealing he’d recovered from before _just fine_. He greeted Nat and Sam casually, hand snaking around Steve to take the spatula from his hand, gently nudging him away. “Plenty to go ‘round,” he grinned cheerfully, nodding at the food.

Steve busied himself grabbing plates from the cupboards, while Sam went through the rundown of their day. He’d started doing that for Bucky’s benefit back in the days at the tower, and well, old habits die hard and all that.

“So, after breakfast Steve and I were going to stop by the tower, visit Tony’s lab for a bit, then meet you guys half an hour before our group go ice skating. Tony’s secured the whole rink so… less crowded. I dunno what your plans are, Nat, but you might want to run them by Bucky so he knows what’s up.”

“I’m getting a haircut,” Bucky offers brightly, grinning at Nat. Steve sighs, internally. He’d gotten very used to stroking Bucky’s hair when he was having a bad night, and it was always soft, thick, and long… almost cat-like. There was something soothing in that for them both.

“Yeah, and that _other_ thing I told you about.” Nat winks at Bucky, and Steve sighs internally again. Let them have their secrets. If Steve didn’t know any better, he’d be suspicious that something more was going on between the two of them. Often, when Steve was comforting Bucky at night, he’d think about how they should try to find a nice girl for him, someone who could be there with him like Steve is now. But every time that thought popped into his head, his gut would coil jealously. Nobody else could take care of Bucky like he could. Of course, Bucky deserved every bit of happiness but… when that day came, Steve could still be a little unhappy about it, right? To be fair, Bucky hadn’t even looked twice at a girl since he’d come back to them, which, given his overactive sex drive of late, was puzzling. He’d had no problem getting girls to fall at his feet back in the day; Steve was sure he’d have no trouble now.

Steve was jolted back into the present by Bucky grabbing the plates from Steve’s hand, pushing the small of his back gently to encourage him to go join the others at the table. Steve smiled at him gratefully. If he was a bit selfish with Bucky’s attention, so be it. He’d lost his friend for so long… they both deserved this time together. Bucky set the table; he’d already brought all the food across while Steve zoned out. He was tired. Yeah. That was it. Had to be.

The four of them quickly demolished their food, then Nat grabbed Bucky by the wrist, dragging him out the door, reprimanding him that he’d be late for his appointment. Bucky gave a small half wave, winking at Steve on his way out. Steve shook his head softly, huge grin plastered on his face as he watched them rush out the door.

After a moment, Sam made an observation. “Man, you really love him, huh.” Steve nodded absently. He and Bucky had been inseparable back in the day, but since finding each other again, if anything, they’d become even closer. Steve couldn’t imagine a world where he wasn’t invested in Bucky’s recovery and wellbeing.

Sam muttered something under his breath about getting a clue, but Steve just shrugged it off. Sam had been his greatest ally in searching for Bucky, sacrificing so much when their introduction had been, well, Bucky trying to kill him. Steve knew he’d owe Sam for that forever, despite Sam’s protests and deflections on the many occasions Steve had tried to discuss it with him at length. The pair of them cleaned away the breakfast dishes, Steve feeling slightly nervous as he’d lied to Bucky about his morning plans. “Come on man, I parked a couple of blocks away, hop to it.” Steve sprang up, Sam leading the way out of the apartment.

The soft snow was still cascading down as they exited the building, the soft swirls making Steve huddle in his coat. He’d never fully adjusted back to the cold, not after he was frozen. Winters were usually harder for him. Having Bucky there had helped a lot. Some of the times he said he’d stay with Bucky was as much for himself, and the pair of them continued the pretence it was all for Bucky, even though they both knew Steve needed him just as much. Having another warm body there seemed to detract from the cold, somehow.

“Ok, on three,” said Sam, gesturing to the pine tree on the roof of his SUV. “One… two…”

“…three!” They both hefted the tree at the same moment, but the lopsided motion put both of them off balance until…

SPLAT. They both fell ass first into the snow on the sidewalk, tree flopping on top of them.

“Ah fuck.” Sam’s sentiment echoed in Steve’s mind. They both sat there for a moment, but the soldier in each of them wasn’t about to let a _fucking Christmas tree_ defeat them, so they shouldered it, Steve’s jeans feeling a lot wetter than he’d like, Sam not looking much better off, and walked back towards Steve’s apartment.

By the time they got upstairs, tree unceremoniously dumped in a corner, both their teeth were chattering.

“Grab a shower, Sam, I’ve got spare clothes.” Steve indicated towards his ensuite, Sam nodding gratefully. Steve pulled out some clothes from a nearby drawer, dropping them at the door, then grabbed some more stuff for himself, heading towards the main bathroom. Damn, Bucky really didn’t like his showers as hot as Steve did. Steve spent a few moments adjusting the temperature, taking note of where it had been before so he could adjust it back for Bucky later. He was about to step into the shower when he noticed there was no soap. He knew Bucky was into fancy shower gels, so he opened the cupboard and poked around trying to find one of them. Steve’s hands closed around a pump bottle, and he pulled it out, reading the label to check he wasn’t going to rub himself with toothpaste, or worse.

“Back door anal lubri--- oh my God!” Steve dropped the bottle and it fell with a dull thud. Biting his lip, he tried to put it back where he’d grabbed it from. That… certainly wasn’t shower gel. For a split second, Steve wondered if this was some kind of practical joke Bucky was playing on him but… it’d been hidden in the back corner of the cupboard. The chances of him finding it were pretty slim. He opened the other door to the cupboard to get a better idea of where to slide (uhh) it back. (No. He wasn’t going to think about that.) Well, Steve thought he’d known what Bucky got up to in the bathroom. Maybe Bucky didn’t realise what this was used for, normally.

As he put the bottle back in the cupboard, it bumped against something in the back corner. Something with a suction cup? If Steve had been thinking straight, he would’ve just backed away and let things be. Later, he would blame his lack of sleep the night before, which was honestly Bucky’s fault… later he’d be thinking about the whole scenario a lot differently. But right now? He didn’t think twice as he grabbed the object blocking the bottle in his hand. It kind of felt like a large… Steve froze as he saw the phallic object his hand was tightly wrapped around.

Suddenly Steve sprang into action, thoughts racing as he replaced both dildo and lube to their former locations, grabbing the correct bottle of shower gel (which was about the same size and shape as the lube bottle – how was he to know the difference by feel? Who needed that much lube, anyway? The bottle was huge!) and washed his body with the efficiency only a former soldier could. He got a strange feeling deep in his gut as he thought about where that dildo had been before it fell into his hand and… suddenly a sick jealousy churned in his gut as he thought about not another woman, but another _man_ comforting Bucky and being the one to wake up when he had a bad night. Where before, Steve had felt fiercely protective, the thought of some other guy there made him so oddly uncomfortable his stomach started to heave, leaving him little time to question his reaction. Jumping out of the shower, Steve barely made it to the toilet as he started to vomit violently.

Somehow, he managed to make it out of the shower around the same time Sam did, more subdued but ready to get down to the task at hand (Good God, the puns circling in his head right now were doing very little to alleviate his racing thoughts. He needed a good couple of hours alone just to start thinking about… whatever was going on up there. He didn’t even know anymore). Sam eyed him warily, but knew Steve was still a little bit triggered by the cold on a bad day, so said nothing. Steve felt… stung? He guessed? That this was something Bucky hadn’t told him.

He didn’t have long to dwell on it as Clint, Scott, Tony and Wanda all came traipsing through the door carrying boxes of ornaments and decorations. Clint shoved a box at Steve, muttering that Nat said no glass ornaments, but she’d found a great non-breakable substitute. Steve nodded dumbly. The sketches he’d provided were coming to life before his eyes.

Back when he and Bucky shared an apartment in the 40s, they’d walked past a window where there was a giant Christmas tree, family gathered around it. The whole room was decorated in shades of silver and clear glass and soft lights and strings of popcorn and sprigs of holly and… compared to the tiny, spindly tree they had (which Bucky had affectionately called Steve), it signified everything they simply couldn’t afford. It was, in short, little more than an unachievable dream. They’d always go look at it when they passed, making up stories about how that’d be theirs one day. Well, Steve was determined that the day had arrived, and he couldn’t wait to surprise Bucky with it. Just… focus on the feeling, the sentiment. Don’t think about the bathroom. 

“Perfect,” Steve breathed, looking at the room. Down to the tiniest detail, it was perfect. Tony tapped his watch impatiently.

“We better move out if we want to beat them to the skating rink.” Steve nodded, and rushed to get his coat, only slightly damp from the earlier incident. He noticed Bucky had forgotten his scarf, and bundled it up before walking out the door. 

Nat and Bucky arrived with hot cocoas for them all, and Steve nearly dropped the one Bucky handed him because… it was like looking at a ghost. His modern haircut, still with enough length – Steve smiled to himself – to run fingers through, showcased his features beautifully, looking more like the dashingly handsome young man that had gone around Brooklyn decades before breaking young girls’ hearts. The one Steve had admired so much, yet been jealous of at the same time. To see a bit of that man again… Steve could’ve been knocked down with a feather. His earlier discovery forgotten, Steve helped Bucky tie his scarf around his neck, to Bucky's quietly muttered thanks. Bucky took Steve’s hand gently, pulling him towards the rink. They both knew the cold bothered Steve a bit, but rugged up, his best friend by his side… this was fine.

Clint hadn’t even bothered going onto the ice; opting instead to build the largest snowman he could on the edge of the rink. He’d already called it Tony – much to Stark’s protest he wasn’t that fat – and it was looking quite impressive. Scott was helping teach Wanda how to skate and she was taking to it like a natural. Nat was secretly trying to see how many tiny snowballs she could aim at Tony’s back before he’d notice. Sam and Tony were having races around the rink, Sam at a slight advantage due to the amount of snow that _just so happened_ to be slowing Tony down.

Bucky and Steve took a much more leisurely pace, taking stock of their friends around them, laughing at their antics. Steve told Bucky about how he and Sam had tripped up in the snow earlier (without mentioning the tree – he just said they were carrying something), and Bucky laughed so hard he slipped on the ice, grabbing onto Steve to regain his balance. Steve steadied him, then gave him a gentle shove.

“Should’ve let you fall,” Steve winked.

“Yeah, like you did in 1945.” Steve flinched, his eyes immediately welling up with tears. Bucky’s look turned from sarcastic little shit to horrified friend even faster than Steve’s reaction as he enveloped him in a bear hug.

“ ‘M sorry, sorry, it’s ok, it wasn’t you, it was never you, I know you wouldn’t let me fall.” Bucky continued to murmur quietly into Steve’s hair, rubbing gentle circles over his back. “ ‘S ok, Steve… it was worth it to come back to you.” Their moment was jarringly broken as an errant snowball from Nat landed on Bucky’s nose. Maybe not so errant, knowing Nat. 

“You’re going to get it, _Widow_.” Bucky shot up, all grim determination, skating over to the edge to gather some snow. Nat appeared not to even hear him, back to irritating Tony, who had only just noticed the source of constant snow that had been slowing him down. Bucky gathered speed as he came up behind Nat, dumping the snow in a heap on her head. Tony was laughing so hard he was doubled over, but Bucky was speed skating the fuck out of there – he knew that wasn’t the end of it. Hiding behind Steve and clutching him around the middle, he mocked the tone of a damsel in distress as he shouted out, “You wouldn’t defile a national icon like Captain America, would you?”

Steve rolled his eyes as they all howled with laughter. If not for his sensitive hearing, he would’ve missed Tony muttering “Yeah, Barnes, I think you’re doing a pretty good job of that already.”

Wait, what? Steve looked puzzled as Bucky let him go. Bucky’s cheeks had a faint flush to them, and Steve’s brain helpfully provided the images of the bathroom from earlier. Hell, he really needed some time to think through a bunch of recent memories. He felt like he was missing something, yet…

Tony yelped as Bucky dropped a big pile of snow down the back of his neck. Steve laughed heartily as Bucky speed skated back over to him, only a stray lump of snow got under Bucky’s blades, and before anyone could even shout out to warn him, Bucky fell heavily on his left shoulder. Steve had tried to reach out and grab him, but it was too late. Bucky grimaced, Steve immediately beside him rubbing his shoulder gently.

“That’s me done for ice skating today,” Bucky sighed. “Think I’m going to go build a buddy for Tony the snowman.” He gently nudged Steve away when he went to go with him to check over his injury, and Steve backed off. He could check his shoulder later, at home. As he skated around with Nat, suddenly the picture of perfect behaviour, he couldn’t help but look over at Bucky every now and then, see if he was alright. Bucky was gesturing at Clint’s large snowman and poking it with a small stick. Steve smirked.

Nat interrupted his thoughts. “So, you and Barnes… just friends, huh?”

Steve turned around to face Nat, puzzled. “ _Best_ friends,” he corrected.

Nat nodded. “Uh huh… look, what you two get up to is none of my business, but just know that if there’s something _more_ you guys wanted to explore…” Nat looked at him pointedly, “We’d all be very supportive of that.” She gave him a wink and skated over to Sam, who was arguing with Tony that using anything other than your body to win constituted cheating. Steve just stood there a moment. Suddenly, Tony’s comment made a lot more sense. Everyone thought he and Bucky were… _more_ than friends? Huh.

“Time’s up people, time to move out.” Tony clapped his hands together, and they skated over to Clint and Bucky.

“Lemme guess, the little scrawny snowman is like old Steve?” Sam arched an eyebrow at Bucky.

“Yup,” Bucky said proudly. “Not as skinny, but closest we’re gonna get.” Steve nudged him gently. Whenever he was with Bucky, all the swirling thoughts left his mind, and he was just… in the moment. He wanted to hold onto that a bit longer. Bucky had been his friend for so many damn years, that always came first, everything else… including everyone else’s wayward comments, definitely came second.

They all said their goodbyes, Bucky leading Steve into a taxi and coaxing him across to the other side of the seat. Bucky gave their address, and the driver took off. Steve turned to look at Bucky, face full of concern. “How’s the shoulder?”

Bucky stretched and squirmed. “Little stiff. Nothing a nice, hot shower won’t fix.”

Steve wasn’t going to dwell on that. He wasn’t. “I can… I can massage it for you, if you’d like?”

“Mmm,” Bucky considered, “Maybe later.”

“Your hair looks really good like that,” Steve said softly, brushing a stray piece of snow out of the soft strands. Bucky smiled at him, his eyes shining. There was no need for words.

Steve had nearly forgotten his surprise waiting back at the apartment until they were both outside the door. He fumbled with his key, blurting out that there was a surprise. Shit, he’d meant to build up to this moment.

“Hey, hey, it’s ok Stevie, I’m sure whatever it is I’ll love it.” Bucky ruffled Steve’s hair, taking his key out of Steve’s hand and turning it in the lock.

Steve walked backwards into the apartment, leading Bucky by the hand. The moment Bucky laid eyes on it all; the tree, the decorations, could not have been more worth it. The way his eyes shone, Steve knew he had the better view watching Bucky than Bucky had of their efforts that morning. Bucky buried his face in Steve’s coat, embracing him tightly. Again, there was no need for words. Bucky quietly excused himself to get a shower, while Steve pulled out his phone to order some food for dinner.

Steve took his time ordering. They were both hungry, so he chose one of their favourite Thai restaurants and carefully considered each dish. Bucky emerged a few minutes later wearing nothing but sleep pants and those damn awful green socks. Steve arched an eyebrow.

“Hey, they’re festive socks, ok?” Steve quietly chuckled. He placed a hand gently on Bucky’s sore shoulder, relieved to see that Bucky wasn’t flinching anymore. Still, he’d check it out in more detail after dinner. Bucky grinned over the food, and they both settled into companionable silence as they ate. There weren’t going to be any leftovers today. That was okay. Steve disposed of the food packaging, turned around and saw Bucky looking at him beseechingly. He nodded, and the pair of them headed towards Steve’s bedroom, Bucky going off to brush his teeth while Steve got changed into his pyjama pants. Bucky came in dragging an extra blanket; Steve smiled at him gently. They both knew the extra blanket wasn’t for Bucky; they both pretended anyway.

Steve slipped into bed, grabbing the remote to turn something non-offensive onto the tv. Bucky sat down in front of him, throwing the warm blanket over them both. Steve sighed contentedly, pressing his chest against Bucky’s back, slowly starting to gently massage his shoulder. Since he’d gotten his new arm, there were a lot less problems with it… but the shoulder joint had still been through a lot of past trauma, and Steve was there to relieve some of the tension from his recent injury. Bucky breathed deeply, relaxing into Steve’s touch. He should go to a physio but… people tended to stare. Steve never did. All he saw was Bucky.

“Mmm, s’good Stevie…” Bucky melted further under Steve’s ministrations, and Steve was resolutely _not_ thinking about what Bucky was normally doing when he made _those_ sorts of moaning noises that were starting to escape from him now. He just continued to run his hands along the joint, the way Bucky liked best. Steve just worked on making his own breathing more even, focussed on making sure what he was doing was helping Bucky to the best of his ability.

Later, when they were both tangled up, watching the end of some mindless romantic comedy, Bucky muttered, “Hope Sam wasn’t touching my stuff when he got a shower here earlier.”

“Nah, he used the ensuite. I used your bathroom.” Steve immediately began cursing himself for his honesty. He just hoped Bucky wasn’t going to notice his, err, _stuff_ , had been moved.

Bucky arched an eyebrow, looking over his shoulder to face Steve. “And you weren’t touching my stuff, were ya?”

“Nuh-no, Buck, just borrowed some of your shower gel. Hope that’s ok.” Steve’s answer was too swift; betraying his guilt. Bucky eyed him for a couple of seconds, then sighed, leaning back into Steve’s chest and turning back to face the television.

“Eh, I guess I can forgive you using my shower gel. Guess you were just keen to smell like me.” Bucky laughed softly, burrowing deeper under the covers. Steve just wrapped his arms around Bucky tighter, listening as his breathing evened out and he fell asleep, sighing with relief that either Bucky hadn’t noticed his stuff was moved, or wasn’t going to say anything about it. The thought of it brought a strange feeling deep in Steve’s gut that he brushed aside, favouring the comfort and warmth of his friend instead.

Steve lay awake for a good while after that. He didn’t need time alone with his thoughts now, though. Not like he’d wanted to all day. Sometime between when he’d walked into his bedroom and now, a thought had dawned on him very clearly and very vividly, and the more he thought about it, the more he realised all his friends seemed to have noticed it long before he did. The constant butterflies in his stomach made a weird kind of sense now.

Steve had come to the horrifying conclusion that he’d fallen in love with his best friend, lying asleep in his arms, completely oblivious.

Eventually Steve must have fallen asleep too, the feeling of the warm body pressed against him a welcome comfort, despite his revelations. He woke the next morning, legs entwined with Bucky’s, the unmistakable feeling of a hard dick pressed up against his own. _Good lord, of all the days for this to happen…_ Steve’s cock twitched with interest, betraying him and causing Bucky to stir. Steve tried to move and extricate himself before Bucky noticed, but it was too late for that. Bucky, eyes still closed, poked gently at Steve through his sleep pants, drawing an audible gasp from him.

“You ‘wake, Stevie?” Bucky opened his eyes, smirking, pushing himself away from Steve and withdrawing his hand. Steve flushed even deeper than usual.

“Well, I fucking am now, jerk.”

“Punk.”

Still lethargic from only being half awake, Bucky quickly had him pinned to the mattress before he could even think about it, the movements slow and languid as they both started to wake properly. Lazily, Bucky rolled off him, heading towards the door.

“Well, gotta take care of business,” he said, eyes darting to Steve’s tented sleep pants. “You prob’ly should too.” Bucky winked, backing out of the room towards the main bathroom, eyes not leaving Steve’s crotch. Well _shit_ , what was he meant to do with _that?_ Bucky might’ve never tried to hide his shenanigans, but outwardly telling Steve what he was off to do? That was new.

Before Steve even made it to the ensuite, he heard the sound of a suction cup being adhered to tiling and _heaven help him,_ that conjured up far too many images for this early in the morning. Now he knew what the sound was… he’d definitely heard that before. Steve rapidly started the shower, and shamefully it only took him a couple of strokes before he shot his load, quickly jumping under the shower and keeping his head under the spray, desperately drowning out any other sounds. Steve wished he could take back the past 24 hours, because how in _hell_ was he meant to deal with this? It’s not like there was a manual for _You’ve Fallen in Love with your Formerly Tortured and Brainwashed Best Friend from Last Century – Now What?_ Or maybe even _Your Best Friend is Fucking Himself with a Dildo in the Next Room and You Wish It Was Your Dick: A Supersoldier’s Guide._

The next couple of weeks passed in a blur for Steve. Had things always been that sexually charged between him and Bucky, or was that new? Moments like the interrupted one on the couch seemed to be happening more and more frequently; Steve hadn’t really noticed them before. Steve also became painfully self-aware of just how much body contact and physical closeness with Bucky made up his day. He still craved the closeness of Bucky and he couldn’t find it in him to be awkward and uncomfortable around him for long, but he often lay awake at night, wondering if he should be content with what they had, or ask for something more. If he should feel guilty for feeling the way he did, or if this was something Bucky wanted too. Things between them were just _so damn good_ as they were. If Bucky was going to take off out of his life after Steve said something… he’d at least wait until after Christmas. He didn’t think he could take the rejection before then.

Bucky hadn’t had any bad episodes since the one before Steve realised how he felt, and his bed felt empty and cold without Bucky there. There was definitely a subtle shift with Bucky, too – he hadn’t excused himself to the bathroom once since the last time they woke up together, and the evenings were oddly silent. Steve watched for any signs that Bucky was regressing, but for all intents and purposes, he seemed… fine. Like he didn’t really need Steve there anymore. Steve wondered if something had changed in his own behaviour that was pushing Bucky away, but during the day, their normal play wrestling, invasion of each other’s space and intense need for close contact was the same as it had always been.

Then it had been Steve waking up in the middle of the night screaming. Steve shivering through the bitterly cold night. Bucky bringing extra blankets and holding him tight and stroking his hair until his heart rate went back down. Bucky muttering things in his ear that reassured him, even though he has no memory of what he told him. It felt almost dream-like, Steve feeling so disconnected from reality that he didn’t even know what was happening around him. Bucky had been his one constant in life, and now he was questioning even that. Steve woke the following morning to a cold bed, and the smell of coffee coming from the kitchen, as though the middle of the night never happened at all. Except… Steve climbed out of bed and noticed with a smirk, Steve was wearing a very ugly pair of bright green hand knitted socks. 

He’d woken late, and so he and Bucky enjoyed a brunch consisting of about three different sets of leftovers from the past few days, avoiding any arguments over who was making the food or washing up, then they both went to shower and dress. It was Christmas Eve, and Tony had arranged a gathering at the compound where they’d all exchange their gifts. Steve had texted Nat at least six times that morning to make sure she safely had his gift for Bucky, until she called him and firmly requested he not text her again, muttering something about regretting the day she taught him about text messages.

Steve was taking a nice, long, hot shower when he heard a knock at the bathroom door.

“Yeah Buck?” he called out. The door to the bathroom opened softly and Bucky ducked his head in.

“You got any soap? My shower gel ran out.”

Steve nodded, opening the shower door and reached out to hand Bucky his own bottle of shower gel he’d bought after that day he used Bucky’s shower. For all he’d teased him, yeah, it was gentler on his skin. Yeah, it smelled better. Yeah, so it reminded him of Bucky. So what?

Bucky walked into the bathroom, Steve jolting slightly as he realised Bucky was naked too. He darted his eyes downward, embarrassed, before realising that by casting his gaze downward, he was staring straight at Bucky’s… nope, he wasn’t going to do this right now. He looked back up at Bucky’s face as he grabbed the bottle and headed back for the door. Bucky looked back over his shoulder before closing the door.

“Nice ass,” he grinned as his eyes gave him a slow once over, smirking back at Steve, who had turned a shade of red that had nothing to do with the temperature of his shower.

Once he’d composed himself, Steve threw on warm layers, made sure his hair was looking good and used some of the aftershave Bucky had bought him for his birthday. All the gifts he’d gotten for everybody were at the compound; Bucky had driven the last of them over the day before. Now he just needed to make himself presentable. And warm, definitely warm. Eventually happy, he walked out where Bucky was waiting for him on the sofa.

“Knew you couldn’t resist the chance to smell as good as me,” Bucky winked. Steve muttered in Bucky’s ear that whenever he stunk that bad he was reminded of Bucky. They started to tussle, but then Steve reminded Bucky that they really needed to get going. As Bucky rolled off Steve’s lap, Steve noticed Bucky was wearing the green socks again – he must’ve picked them up off the bathroom floor while Steve was in the shower. He shook his head fondly. They grabbed their coats, scarves, hats and gloves, and drove over to the compound.

Because it was Christmas, this was a larger affair than their ice skating escapades a couple of weeks earlier. Steve found himself naturally gravitating towards Thor, who declared in his loud, booming voice, “You and the Winter Soldier! You match! Your jeans, your jumpers, your little tiny scarves!”

This was met with a loud eruption of laughter from the entire team, Bucky beside himself, rolling around on the floor with tears rolling down his cheeks as soon as he saw Steve’s mortified face, Pepper and Rhodey looking at the rolling super soldier in concern. Steve shrugged it off. Usually Bucky wasn’t so good with crowds; anything that was distracting him for now would do. Besides, Steve knew Thor was genuinely excited about their – he hated to admit he was right – matching outfits. Steve didn’t have a pair of socks like Bucky’s though, he thought with a secret smile.

The afternoon wore on, and everyone was drinking and dancing and merry-making. They were going to give their gifts just before dinner. Natasha would periodically disappear, much to Bucky’s concern. Steve knew exactly what she was doing though. He couldn’t wait for Bucky to get his gift. He hoped it was something Bucky would love. His gifts for the other Avengers were just as thoughtful but… Steve was pinning a lot on Bucky liking his present. More than he should, probably.

An hour or so later, balls of wrapping paper were being thrown around the room by both Tony and Sam, each of them taking the piles from beside every other guest to add to their arsenal. Steve shook his head at them, mocking his Stern Captain America voice.

“Children, stop that!”

Nat sniggered. “As though you can talk, I’m surprised it wasn’t _you two_ ,” she intoned, gesturing at Steve and Bucky.

“Hey, I’ve been nothing but a role model of good behaviour this evening!” Steve protested, while Bucky put on his most innocent expression.

“Yeah, only because I’m looking after your boy’s gift,” Nat shook her head at them both, rising up to go gather said gift.

Bucky had bought Steve an impressive set of art supplies – the other errand he and Nat had run the other week when he’d gotten his hair cut – shyly saying he’d noticed the various sketch books floating around the apartment, and seeing as Steve had some more down time lately, he thought he might want to explore his craft more… like he did when they were younger. Bucky’s eyes shone with tears at the memory, and Steve felt his own eyes welling up, until Tony ruined the moment by interjecting.

“So, Capsicle, is the frozen metal man going to pose for some life drawings? I’m sure the internet would pay a fortune to get their hands on those…” Steve blushed, looking down. He’d love to draw Bucky like that but… how does one go about asking their best friend to pose naked for them? How does one go about asking their best friend that they’re secretly in love with to strip for them? With Christmas just about here, Steve knew he’d have to make a move soon. He was touched that Bucky noticed the sketch books. Usually he’d just muck about when Bucky had been having a bad day, but admittedly, over the last two weeks and to work through some of his confused feelings, he had been putting pencil to paper with greater frequency than normal.

“Oh, leave ‘em alone, Tony,” Clint interjected. Steve sighed with relief, until Clint continued his conversation. “It’s not like they had health ed classes like that back in the forties. They never got the harrowing videos.”

Tony arches an eyebrow and quipped back, “You sure those aren’t the series of videos Capsicle made?” Steve shot daggers at him, while Bucky looked up, surprised.

“What videos?” he asked, looking at Steve. “You been makin’ porn while I was brainwashed, Stevie?” Was… Bucky biting his lower lip? _Good lord,_ did Bucky really think he’d been…

“Sorry to disappoint you, Buckeroo, but if you want those kinds of videos you’ll have to make ‘em at home. Still, I’m sure Friday can find Steve’s PSA videos…”

“No!” Steve said emphatically. It was only recently, and with Pepper’s help, that the videos had stopped being circulated. He knew they were still all over the internet, but he definitely didn’t need to feel humiliated in front of Bucky tonight. 

“It’s ok,” Bucky winked, speaking softly. “I know how the internet works a lot better than Stevie here does, I’m sure I can find ‘em later.”

Steve was fortunately spared any further humiliation as Nat came back into the room, carrying Bucky’s gift; a two-year-old cat with snow white fur. Nat deposited the ball of fur on Bucky’s lap, and Bucky gasped softly.

“Merry Christmas Buck,” Steve said softly, wrapping an arm around Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky slowly started to stroke the snow white fur. “She’s a rescue, about two years old… didn’t have a name. I remember when you saw the ad for the animal shelter, you didn’t stop talking about cats for weeks… I have the rest of her stuff in my closet at home, everything’s all ready for her…” Steve realised he was rambling, and Bucky still hadn’t said a word. Bucky’s eyes were cast down at the cat. Had Steve royally fucked up? Maybe Bucky didn’t even like cats, despite his temporary obsession.

Bucky buried his face deeper in the cat’s fur, still stroking her gently. The cat began to purr. Bucky looked up, tears streaming down his face.

“I’m going to call her Alpine,” he whispered softly, voice wavering slightly.

Clint and Sam had set up a makeshift playpen for Alpine while they ate dinner, though Bucky was reluctant to part with her. Clint kept sneaking her bits of turkey and chicken, while Tony got Friday to set up a laser pointer to dart around the area, much to everyone’s amusement. They all ate until they were stuffed full – even Steve and Bucky – but as the others started to feel the effects of the alcohol and the volume and energy levels in the room started to increase, Steve noticed Bucky looking quieter and more withdrawn. Normally, with Thor around, they’d be having some of Thor’s Asgardian specials but… with the selection he’d given them both for Christmas, there was no need now. Bucky seemed to almost shrink as the room got busier, so Steve coaxed Alpine into her pet carrier, ready to leave whenever Bucky was.

Their goodbyes took longer than they’d like, but eventually they were back in the apartment, sitting huddled together on the sofa. Bucky had let Alpine out in his bedroom, where she’d found a cardboard box by the door and settled in to sleep.

Bucky shifted closer to Steve, putting his arms around Steve’s waist. “Thank you,” he whispered. “She’s perfect.”

Steve smiled, warmth spreading through him. Normally when Bucky was socially exhausted it took a lot for him to speak, so his words meant a lot. Steve looked up his Netflix queue and put on a cheesy Christmas movie, where they both fell asleep under the thick blanket Bucky produced from somewhere. It was much later when they woke up, necks stiff, and Bucky got that pleading look in his eye. Sighing with relief, Steve followed Bucky into his bedroom, where Alpine was still curled up in the same box she’d been in earlier. Bucky bit down on his lower lip thoughtfully, and Steve nudged him gently forward to get into bed under the covers.

Tonight, Bucky seemed to melt into Steve’s touch. Although he hadn’t complained about his shoulder, Steve started to massage it anyway, his chest flush against Bucky’s broad back, Bucky letting out soft, grateful moans. How was it possible that Bucky was so perfect? His shorter hair sat beautifully, as Steve ran his fingers over the scar tissue where skin met metal. Others might see imperfection, but to Steve, it made Bucky all the more perfect. A warm, fuzzy feeling enveloped Steve and he felt like he was floating. Everything was just Bucky, so everything was perfect. God, when had he fallen so hard for him? The answer was forever. Everything had always led him to Bucky. The soft, floaty feeling found the words tumbling out before his brain processed them. 

“I love you, Buck. I think I’m… in love with you.”

Bucky froze in Steve’s arms just as Steve’s brain came back online. In the few seconds it took Bucky to turn and face him – it felt like an eternity to him – he raced from feeling horrified, to embarrassed, to suddenly realising he might get kicked out on his ass at Christmastime but the words were out now and he may as well own them. Desperately willing himself not to have a full blown panic attack, he slowly looked back up to meet Bucky’s gaze.

Bucky’s expression was soft, but his eyes were brighter than Steve had seen them all day. Opting out of using his words, Bucky stared at Steve’s mouth for a moment before leaning forward and capturing his lips in a gentle kiss. Lips meeting lips, dancing teasingly, languidly, as though they had all the time in the world, the silence being something they were too scared to break; this fragile new thing that was Very Much Happening. For how gently their lips were ghosting each other’s, Steve felt like even their tiny breaths threatened to break the moment. Slowly, the kiss deepened. Bucky bit down gently on Steve’s lower lip, and then there was tongue, too, the intensity and passion building but this precious thing still moved so tremendously quietly. The arousal deep within Steve felt almost too much, too connected to these moments as they played out, clearly affecting Bucky just as much. Hand explored every inch of skin they’d touched countless times before, but it was like a new discovery.

Eventually the intensity got too much and they broke away, Bucky cradling Steve’s face, the pair of them panting softly. Steve leant forward, pressing his forehead against Bucky’s, his hand snaking around his waist. His whole body was buzzing with the thought that _this could be his_. Something he didn’t even have words for, it was so perfect. Bucky withdrew one of his hands as Steve littered his forehead with soft kisses. Steve only stopped when he felt Bucky’s expectant gaze on him.

Bucky took Steve’s hand, thrusting something into it, never breaking eye contact. The look in his eyes was raw, vulnerable, _loving –_ and it took Steve’s breath away _._

“Make love to me,” Bucky whispered huskily.

There wasn’t time for hesitation, shyness, embarrassment; they’d both waited long enough. And this was _Bucky_ , Steve’s Bucky, the one person he knew better than he knew himself. Steve leant forward to kiss Bucky again, flicking the cap on the small tube Bucky had placed in his hand, the same unhurried, gentle pace creating a tension unlike Steve had ever known. Lightly coaxing Bucky’s legs over his shoulder, he slowly started to kiss along Bucky’s jawline, his neck, his chest, worshipping every inch of the man watching him with unwavering trust and intense desire. Coating his fingers, he unhurriedly began to tease Bucky’s entrance, his other hand massaging the small of Bucky’s back encouragingly.

Bucky’s sighs were all that broke the silence; turning to soft gasps as Steve slowly sank a finger inside. One day, Steve would have him moaning like he’d overheard so many times; like he’d been doing when Steve massaged him earlier. But it wasn’t for now. Now was about cherishing Bucky, taking his time, giving him what they both needed. Bucky’s eyes felt like they were penetrating Steve’s soul as his first finger sunk in all the way, and once their eyes locked, Steve was determined not to look away. He wanted to see this intimate moment in Bucky’s eyes. Bucky started to squirm but offered no protest as Steve gently coaxed in a second finger alongside the first, sliding softly and stretching him lovingly in his preparation.

After three fingers, Bucky gently grabbed Steve’s wrist, his eyes set with determination. He was ready. Steve tensed. With the sounds Bucky had been making for, well, months, Steve couldn’t deny the thought of this moment had crossed his mind so many times he’d lost count. How couldn’t he have seen, how couldn’t he have known? But this, this was much slower, much more special, every moment, every breath… Steve slid his slicked up length slowly inside Bucky, carefully watching the features of the man beneath him, checking he was okay. Bucky stared back at Steve, pleasure dancing behind his eyes, biting down on his lower lip. This… this was okay for him. Good. Bucky reached out, Steve following his hand with his eyes, as Bucky slowly reached behind Steve’s head, coaxing his hair and tugging him in for a deep kiss.

Deeper and deeper the kiss became as Steve sunk deeper inside Bucky. Steve only realised he was fully inside Bucky when Bucky broke the kiss with a sharp intake of breath. They stilled there for several moments, foreheads together, panting into each other’s mouths, the contact electrifyingly intimate, yet still craving more of each other’s touch. Steve felt the sweat beginning to pool where their bodies joined; it was of no consequence whose sweat it was. He’d never felt so connected, so _as one_ with someone before. The feeling of warmth radiated off him as slowly, painstakingly, as though Bucky was made of glass, Steve began to move. Shallow breaths, languid movements, reverent gazes, they soon fell into a rhythm all their own. This wasn’t about chasing pleasure, though it rolled off them in spades. This was a dedication, an expression of everything they were both feeling. This was love.

Just breathing, in, out, in, out, soft sighs, the feeling that their physical contact, skin on skin, could never be enough. Steve never took his eyes off Bucky; the faces he would pull, the things he liked, the things that spoke out to him in the silence. He could have _a lifetime_ of getting to know this side of Bucky, all the time in the world, and he was starting now. Bucky’s breath hitched and his breaths became shallower as he leaned up, lips close to Steve’s ear, murmuring a single word that broke through the heated haze.

“Close.”

Steve began to stroke Bucky’s hair, laying more kisses along his neck, pulling back to watch his expression as Bucky’s breaths became more ragged and uneven. Whimpering softly, he clenched down on Steve, causing Steve to gasp as he felt the hot wetness between them, Bucky letting out a small breath before canting his hips back into Steve, who was already so close, watching Bucky come undone beneath him. Grunting softly as he chased his own release… his own release _inside Bucky_ , Steve came with a silent cry, breathing heavily, Bucky licking his lip as he looked up at him like… some sort of angel, he had to be.. _._

As Steve slowly withdrew, Bucky kissed his forehead, turning towards the bedside drawers. He pulled out some wet wipes and proceeded to wipe them both down, across his front, across Steve’s stomach. Bucky settled back down, enveloping Steve in a hug.

“Just so we’re clear after that… I love you, too.” Bucky grinned at Steve, hair flopping in his face and looking decidedly worse for wear. Steve smiled back at him, sated and sleepy. They held each other until they both fell asleep.

The next morning, Steve woke up to the smell of coffee, and as he got out of bed, looking down at his feet, he saw he was wearing a pair of hand knitted socks… only these ones were red. Matching a pair of green socks he was very familiar with. Smile ghosting on his face with the memories of the night before and the hope of things still to come, Steve walked out into his kitchen that Christmas morning with the feeling this may be the best Christmas yet.

**Author's Note:**

> Stupid, stupid oblivious Steeb! For the record, yeah, Bucky worked it out months ago and concluded this was something Steve needed to figure out on his own, on his own terms. And if Bucky was dropping as many not-so-subtle hints that Steve wasn’t picking up on as he could, eh, so be it.  
> Bucky: literally grabbing Steve’s dick and shoving his own dick in Steve’s face.  
> Steve: I’m just so honoured to be a part of his recovery, you know. As his ~friend~.  
> Bucky: Walking in on Steve in the shower, naked, telling him he has a nice ass.  
> Steve: I wonder if he even ~likes me~
> 
> The thought of Steve trying to wash himself with lube was an idea I toyed around with, but ultimately, to keep the story moving, I let him read it before that happened XD Maybe I’ll write that one another time. (FYI Bucky keeps most of his toys in the bedroom, kind of secretly hoping Steve would find his stash one day… hence him fishing about the bathroom).  
> #StuckyInEveryUniverse – it’s a Christmas one, how could I not?  
> PS: Yeah, Bucky was optimistically keeping lube under his pillow, as well as having the wipes on standby. Can’t blame a guy for being prepared, right? ;)  
> Please come shout at me in the comments, they give me life and inspire me to be better <3 Your love, ConCrit and observations make me a better writer, and are so appreciated!


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